


Countdown

by SenatusConsultum (TheSenator)



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Knee Socks, Paris Database, Reader-Insert, Smut, Teasing, Unity-era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5671981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSenator/pseuds/SenatusConsultum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaun’s been working on the Paris Database for ages. It’s good that you’re around to make sure he takes a break and unwinds every once in a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Compromise

“Bloody Templars,” Shaun groused. “You’d think at least _one_ of them could get their dates in order…” He clicked his computer mouse angrily as he scrolled through the page on his screen.

“What are you working on, Shaun?” she called as she walked out of their bedroom.

“Paris database,” he grumbled. Shaun had been working on the Paris database for weeks, sitting hunched on his stool as he uncovered and fixed dozens of mistakes. He was becoming increasingly irritated as time wore on; Shaun hated France and the French Revolution, and he hated Abstergo for making it necessary to work on this project in the first place.

Why they’d want to use the French Revolution for the rollout of the Helix program was a mystery to him–most people knew almost nothing about it, and what little they _did_ know (or _thought_ they knew) was based on their (wrong, uninformed, and idiotic) assumptions that _Les Misérables_ took place during the Reign of Terror. While it was true that there _was_ plenty of singing during the 1789 Revolution—there were so many songs that Shaun likened the Revolution to a particularly deadly summer camp—none of them involved “hearing the people sing,” or whatever nonsense all those morons usually started on about whenever the French Revolution was mentioned.

Shaun felt her hands on his shoulders, squeezing them gently. He let his head fall forward with a happy groan as she began to massage him.

" _Still?_ Come on Shaun, take a break. The database will get done; the initiates don’t get the entries all at once, anyway,” she reasoned. She pressed her thumbs into his shoulders, kneading the tight knots on either side of his spine and making him moan.

“I can’t. Not right now. Bishop is expecting a third of the entries by the end of the week, and the database is a bloody mess. There are inaccuracies everywhere, and they apparently didn’t even proofread it before they rolled it out. I’d almost be better off deleting the whole thing and writing all the entries myself.” He sighed unhappily.

She began walking her fingertips up and down his neck, pressing gently into the base of his skull. “I can help you with the proofreading—that might make it easier for you to focus on the content. But I can’t help with that part—you’re the expert historian here.” Shaun smiled at the compliment. “But seriously, Shaun, you should take a break. Relax a little—“ Her hands slid down his back and around his body, gently stroking his thighs. “—relieve some tension. I can feel it in your shoulders and neck. It isn’t healthy.”

Shaun chuckled and looked back at her, his eyebrow arching as he smirked in amusement. “Oh, you’re just worried about my health, are you? You’re not just trying to get into my trousers?”

She nuzzled the back of his neck. “Not _just_ …”

It wasn’t just Absertgo’s atrocious quality control that had been stalling his progress on the database.  She had been distracting him, too. This was their first assignment alone since they’d gotten together, and they’d definitely taken advantage of it. She’d spent much of her free time strutting around the flat in his shirts and tiny, colorful scraps of fabric she claimed were underwear, flirting with him until he pulled her into his lap or picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. She was a welcome distraction, but nevertheless, Shaun found himself falling behind more than he’d like.

She kissed his neck behind his ear as her hands slid up his thighs to the waistband of his trousers. “You’ve been working so hard, Shaun. Come on, take a quick break.”

She swiveled the stool around so he was facing her. She was wearing one of his button down shirts, unbuttoned almost to her navel, a pair of black panties, and some above-the-knee socks. Shaun raised an eyebrow and grinned as he stole a glance at her breasts. She slowly untucked his shirt.

“Why do you always get dressed when it’s just the two of us here?” she asked, absently fingering the top button of his trousers.

“One of us has to look like a proper adult. We can’t _both_ walk around in our pants all day,” he teased, his lips quirking into a wry smile. “Nice socks, by the way.”

She giggled. “But you always end up in your underwear, anyway. Or less.” She unzipped his trousers and smiled as she looked at his boxers. “ _Star Wars_ , huh? Nice. I’ll have to borrow these sometime.”

“Oh, that would be very, _very good_ ,” he purred. He took her hands and pulled her closer. “However, I have too much work to take a break right now. No matter _how_ tempting the distraction might be.” He kissed her cheek and buttoned a few of the buttons on her shirt. “Give me an hour or so? Then we can take a _long_ break, and I promise you can do whatever it is you’re planning to do with me.”

She grinned. “Deal. Send me some of the entries you haven’t looked at yet, and I’ll edit them for you.”

“Are you sure?” Shaun asked. “You’ve already done so much today…”

She placed her hand on his cheek. “Yeah, absolutely! I _do_ worry about you, Shaun. I’m here to help you stay safe and keep you from working yourself to death. Let me take care of you every once in a while.”

“Alright then… I’ll send some of the entries to you.” He gazed into her eyes. “And I do let you take care of me. Sometimes.”

Shaun wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a passionate kiss. She slid her fingers into his hair, making him shiver as she gently scratched his scalp. Shaun’s slid his hands down to her behind and squeezed gently; he felt her giggle against his mouth. He licked gently at her bottom lip before pulling back.

“Alright. Back to work,” he said regretfully. He zipped up his trousers and let his shirt hang, untucked, at his waistline.

She nodded and grinned lasciviously. “Don’t exhaust yourself. Remember, I’ll be coming for you in an hour, Shaun.” She left him at his desk and headed toward the kitchen. He admired the sway of her hips and the curve of her behind as she walked away.

Shaun smirked as he swiveled back around to his computer. He sent her a hefty chunk of database entries, and then took a deep breath. This was going to be a _very_ long hour indeed.


	2. Diversion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaun’s mind wanders at the very beginning of his work hour.

Shaun glanced at the clock; it had been 20 minutes since she’d left. He’d only made it through four database entries so far—the first two entries had needed to be rewritten completely, and he was so put off that when he reached the other two entries, he’d simply added his own commentary and moved on.

_Nobody will probably even notice_ , he thought bitterly as he added a saucy joke to the entry for The Black Office. In spite of the effort that he put into the database, Shaun knew that the initiates weren’t likely to read it, so why not have a little fun? Bishop didn’t seem to mind so long as the database was properly edited, tested, and updated.

He stood up and stretched, looking slyly toward the cracked bathroom door, where [Y/N] had retreated with her tablet and a glass of wine. Shaun heard her turn on the tap and let it run—she must have decided to take a bath while she waited out the hour she’d promised to give him. He sat back down and opened another database entry.

Shaun’s thoughts drifted back to her. He smiled to himself as he considered that she might be making plans for later. She had her tablet with her; maybe she was _reading up_ on something new they could try together. Maybe she was fantasizing about him.

_Or maybe_ —Shaun’s mind began to race—maybe she was touching herself. She might even be planning to tease him with sexy texts, or pictures, or a video chat. Shaun glanced excitedly at his inbox.

No new emails.

But still, she probably _was_ getting all worked up thinking about what they were going to do in—he looked at the clock again—37 minutes. He could picture her perfectly: relaxing in the tub under a mountain of bubbles, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the steaming hot bath. One of her arms would be draped gracefully over the edge of the tub while the other would be submerged in the water, her hand between her legs. Her fingertips would be gliding expertly across her clit, tracing the same patterns that she occasionally made while she rode him. Her face would betray what was happening beneath the bubbles—her head would be tilted back against the tub and she’d be sighing, and biting her lip, and letting out soft little moans of “ _Shaun_ ,” trying not to disturb him but unable to help herself.

_Yeah, that’s exactly what she must be up to,_ he thought.

Shaun felt quite pleased with himself, knowing that he was able to turn her on like that. He wondered how much time he had left before he’d be able to join her.

He checked.

36 minutes.

Shaun sighed. He was seriously regretting his decision to continue working, especially since he just  _knew_ she was touching herself and thinking of him in the bath. Shaun adjusted his erection, which was pressing insistently against his trousers, and turned back to the database with a grumble. He opened an entry for Marie Antoinette’s minister of fashion— _Are you serious?!_ —and began typing away, adding comments and muttering to himself about how ridiculous all of this was.

His eyes wandered across his computer’s desktop, and that’s when he noticed it.

His Inbox. He had a new email.

An email from her.

There was no subject, but there _was_ an attachment. It was encrypted, as all their files were. He opened the email, started the download, and read the message:

_I hope this helps you get through the next half hour or so! See you soon. Xx_

Shaun’s eyes widened, and his pulse quickened. He couldn’t believe it—she _had_ sent him sexy pictures. Sexy pictures that she’d just taken from the bath, where she was naked and slippery and thinking about all the ways she was going to fuck him in… 33 minutes.

He grinned. He was right—she  _was_ going to tease him with sexy messages and photos and who knows what else for the next 32 and a half minutes, or until he couldn’t take it anymore and went into the bathroom after her.

Shaun decrypted the attachment and opened the folder as quickly as his trembling fingers would allow.

Inside the folder was _thirty-five files._


	3. Attachment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaun's mind wanders at the outset of his work hour.

Thirty-five files.

Thirty-five files, and _not one_ of them was a photo of his naked, soapy girlfriend masturbating in the bathtub. Shaun hadn’t been this disappointed since he discovered that Santa wasn’t real.

He scrolled through the files again to make sure there wasn’t a photo hidden somewhere in the queue.

There wasn’t.

Shaun huffed and opened a file at random; it was the database entry for Saint-Chapelle, the 13th Century chapel that contained over a thousand vibrant stained glass scenes—and a secret entrance to the French Brotherhood’s headquarters.

Shaun’s disappointment melted away as a wide, giddy grin spread across his face. Instead of relaxing with her glass of wine, he realized, she had proofread and edited _thirty-five_ entries for him.

Shaun uploaded all of her files to the database and began poring over them. She had edited Abstergo’s horrendous grammar and spelling, re-written entire articles, and flagged content that she thought required further investigation or clarification. Shaun was able to scan quickly through the entries now, pausing occasionally to add his signature commentary before preparing them to be encrypted and delivered to Bishop.

She sent him another batch of entries as he worked through the first set. This time, the encrypted file contained just five files. Shaun started the encryption process for the first 25 files, taking a moment to pause and stretch. He thought about her, working so hard to help him during what  _should_ have been her time to relax. Sure, it would have been _nice_ to get some sexy messages or dirty pictures, but she had sent him exactly what he needed at that particular moment, and he truly appreciated it.

His computer chimed—another email from her containing five more entries. She’d added a subject onto this one: _25 minutes left_. Shaun opened the email and downloaded the files. Five more database entries, and _a zip file?_ It was named “Xx;” Shaun’s brows furrowed as he puzzled over it. He went back to the original email to see if she’d mentioned it.

The message read:

_25 minutes left! I hope I’ve been able to relieve some of your stress. I’ve added a little something extra to this one—please don’t send it to Bishop. See you soon. Xx_

Shaun’s mouth went dry. He unzipped the file and opened the folder. There were four more files inside, and they were all images.

Shaun stole a furtive glance around the flat before opening the first image. He smiled when he saw it—she was standing in the bathroom, smiling mischievously into the camera as she pulled her hair into a bun on top of her head. Her shirt was completely unbuttoned and splayed open wide at her stomach; Shaun grinned as his eyes followed the path of bare skin that traveled from her neck to her skimpy black underwear. Shaun’s gaze lingered on her breasts, the sides of which were just barely visible; he bit his lip and earnestly wished she’d opened the shirt just a little wider. His eyes moved downward, to her belly and then to her panties. He recalled the times he’d kissed and nibbled his way down that path, relishing the taste of her skin and the sounds she made as he slowly made his way to her tight, sweet cunt. He gave the photo another once-over and felt the heat begin to pool in his groin.

Shaun flicked through to the second file. She had turned around, and his shirt was sliding down her shoulders and halfway down her back. She was giving him a sly, cheeky grin and winking. Shaun smiled, marveling at the way she could be both adorable and irresistibly sexy.

Shaun’s eyes widened, and his cock began to harden, when he saw the third photo. The shirt was gone—discarded on the floor maybe, or on the counter. It didn’t matter; all that mattered was that she wasn’t wearing it anymore. Her back was still facing the camera, and she was arching it slightly so that her behind, still clad in those little black panties, tilted out invitingly toward the camera.

_Toward **me** ,_ Shaun reminded himself.

Her cute, coy facial expression was gone, replaced by an intense, seductive gaze that made him want to storm the bathroom and bend her over the counter.

_Fuck._ Shaun scolded his naiveté—he should have known better than to think she’d let him get through the whole hour undisturbed. He smirked at her cleverness; she lulled him into believing she was just being helpful, when she probably had this planned from the beginning. He looked at the clock—22 minutes left. He was wondering what else she had planned for him when he remembered there was still one picture he hadn’t opened yet.

And then he wondered whether he _should_.


End file.
